


The Future, And Us

by Ammeh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Consensual cuckolding hurtling full speed towards polyamory, F/F, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Impregnation, Multi, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Praise Kink, Verbal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ammeh/pseuds/Ammeh
Summary: The Emperor and her consort decide they'd like to have a child. Even with her there to direct, there's really only one person Edelgard trusts to knock up her wife.(And maybe she should think about that a little.)
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth/Hubert von Vestra, Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 21
Kudos: 244
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme fill, for the following lovely prompt:  
> "The Emperor and her wife decide they’re ready to have a child. They enlist the help of none other than the Minister of the Imperial Household who is more than happy to lend his _services_ in aid to his emperor. Edelgard watches with a glass of wine while Hubert knocks up her wife. She guides him and lets him know just how well he’s doing."
> 
> If you only ship some of the component pairings and are trying to figure out if you'll like this fic, here's a cheat sheet on what it contains:  
> -Edelgard and Byleth - fuck offscreen  
> -Byleth and Hubert - fuck onscreen  
> -Edelgard and Hubert - eyefuck (with a strong implied "for now")  
> Feelings implied in all directions, but least emphasized for Hubert/Byleth because Edelgard's the POV character and neither of them are particularly effusive.

It's three years before things start to feel _stable_.

For so long she's been consumed with engineering change, with digging away at the rot until it's stripped clean and bare and then trying to build something better on top of it, that she doesn't quite know what to do with herself when it starts to feel like things are...on track. They've gone from problems to plans, said plans are being implemented, and the implementations are being overseen by capable teams who don't really need her there overseeing the fine details. There's so much more left to work through, but she's become acutely aware of how you need to build under some things before you can tear them down. And so she gradually finds herself with hours more each day with...nothing in particular to do.

At first the indulgence is nice—some lazy sweet-filled afternoons, slow mornings with Byleth spent wrapped up in each other, a week-long visit to Derdriu that's only half business. She's even gotten Hubert to relax a bit, perhaps her proudest accomplishment. But eventually the slower pace starts to get under her skin, make her itch with some need she can't quite pin down.

It takes a visit from Dorothea, gown stretched over her pregnant belly and Ferdinand doting at her side, for the need to crystallize.

\--

“Have you ever thought about...children?” she asks one evening, reading on the sofa with Byleth reclining across her lap.

“You mean having them? With you?” Byleth gets a soft little smile. “Sometimes. It'd be nice.”

“You think so too? I must admit, I've been considering the idea a lot lately.”

Byleth sits up, so they can face each other. “We should do it then.”

“Just like that, huh?” She laughs. “As always, you fearlessly blaze forward even where I stumble on details.”

“Like how? I think I'd like to do it from scratch. At least the first time. But if you'd rather adopt, we could look at that too.”

She remembers how Dorothea had glowed, how Ferdinand's hand had kept absently sneaking down to pet her belly as they'd talked. “There's certainly an appeal to going through the full process. But which of us would...” she trails off. Until that moment she hadn't truly registered the physicality of it. The idea of another human, growing inside her, sheltered by her flesh and dependent on it for survival—

It's—

—Sometimes it terrifies her, what they did to her body. What they broke, what they left inside her, what she might have been too young and terrified to even notice. She barely trusts it to be her _own_ host some days, much less...

She realizes she's staring at the scars on the backs of her hands when Byleth's voice cuts through the noise in her head.

"My father said my mother smiled most when she was pregnant with me," she says softly. "I think...I'd like to try it."

The image of her wife smiling down at her pregnant belly hits Edelgard like a ballista, and there's really no course of action but to kiss her.

The conversation gets put on hold, for a while.

–--

“Who would be the father?” Byleth asks some time later, cuddled together in bed.

Edelgard considers. There's a face that immediately springs to mind, but she pushes past her blind gut feel and tries to think through desirable qualities. “It would have to be someone we trust not to spread tales that you had an affair or some such. A person whose loyalty or integrity we can rely on.”

Byleth nods. “Discreet, too.”

“And it absolutely must be someone you like, first and foremost,” Edelgard adds, stroking her hair. She thinks there are methods of conception that don't involve contact, but it seems important regardless.

“And someone _you_ like.”

“Unattached seems preferable,” Edelgard puts forth. “It would make things simpler.”

“Good-looking. I want our baby to be cute.”

“Ideally someone who can remain nearby for a while, as I've heard it can take a while for a baby to catch.”

Byleth tilts her head. “I feel like there's an obvious choice here.”

“Hubert?” If they're not converging on the same obvious choice, this will be awkward.

“Mm-hmm,” Byleth says, nuzzling into her shoulder. “Loyal. Discreet. Close. Single. Nice to look at. Lives here.”

“I had the same thought.” She traces her fingers over Byleth's collarbone. “And you'd be comfortable with...” she trails off, trying to envision what sort of relationship she'd even expect Hubert to have with a child of hers and Byleth's that he technically fathered. ...Even if he were the father, he'd probably deflect any attempts to involve him as a familial figure in favor of deference. Insufferable man.

“Fucking him? Yeah, I could definitely fuck Hubert.”

She can't help the surprised noise that escapes her mouth.

“Oh. Is that not what you were going to ask?”

“I—” Edelgard shakes her head, trying to recover from the unexpected bolt of heat that the idea of watching Hubert fuck her wife sent through her. “I hadn't gotten to considering how we'd choose to go about the actual conception.”

“I didn't realize there were options.”

“I believe there are some magics or instruments that could be used to introduce the seed without him...ah...directly coming inside you.” There's that spike of heat again. “Though I do believe they are a bit less reliable. If you'd like to do it naturally, I'm certainly open to the idea. Assuming he agrees to any of this, of course.” She'll have to be careful with how she brings this proposal up to make sure he doesn't take it as an order...

Byleth bites her lip, twirling a lock of Edelgard's hair around her finger. “If you're fine with the idea...it sounds kind of hot, honestly. If you'd be there too.” There's a bit of a flush on her cheeks.

Edelgard remembers towards the end of the war, she'd caught a few appraising gazes passing between the two of them. And not Hubert's usual sort of appraising gaze. For a little while she'd thought maybe they would... But there'd been enough looks directed _her_ way that she'd confessed anyway, and Byleth had said yes, and whatever charged moments were passing between her and Hubert had stopped.

Of course, she and Hubert had had a few of their own charged moments back then, so maybe they were all just high on adrenaline.

“It does sound rather titillating,” she agrees, spinning the concept over in her head one more time. “I'll...propose the idea to him.”

\---

“Hubert, there's something...personal...I'd like to discuss with you.”

He straightens in his seat, the slight paperwork-induced frown on his face immediately vanishing. “Of course, your Majesty,” he says, smoothly setting down the stack of documents he's looking through.

“Please, Hubert. This is a conversation I'd like to have as your friend, not as your Emperor.”

His lip quirks. “Of course...Lady Edelgard.”

She wishes she could get him to drop the Lady, but at least it's an improvement.

“Byleth and I are...thinking of having a child.”

“Congratulations,” he says.

“Yes, well...as you are probably aware, the two of us lack the necessary resources to create a child on our own.”

A flash of surprise appears on his face before he quickly schools it away. He's probably figured out where she's going with this.

“Byleth will be carrying the child, but we need someone to, ah, father it. Is that—would you be interested?” When she'd imagined this conversation, she'd wanted to explain what he meant to them, why of all people he's the one they want to share this with. But...she doesn't want him to feel pressured. She knows that if he were aware she really wanted him, specifically, to make this child with them, that desire would override any of his own feelings on the matter.

“Your Majesty, I...would be honored.” His expression is the closest to “overwhelmed” she's seen on him in over a decade.

She feels her lips curling into a smile. “Thank you, Hubert. It means the world to me to have you be the one sharing this with us. Now, err, the next question would be, what...conception methods would you be comfortable with?”

He gives her that damned careful look, the one where she always knows there are a dozen plans and desires running through his head and he's not going to share any of them with her. “I suppose that depends on what options the two of you are deciding between. I'm sure you've already narrowed it down somewhat.”

She's going to go out on a limb and assume that the careful wording means his preferred option is the same as theirs. “Byleth said her preference would be the...traditional approach. And I admit to finding the idea intriguing.”

He swallows heavily, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Well then. If that _is_ your preferred method, I would be very willing to oblige.”

“It is. I would like to be present, though.” She bites her lip. “I hope that doesn't make the idea intimidating. While my presence would firstly be for my wife's comfort, I do have a certain... _interest_ in observing this.”

He flushes slightly. “I wouldn't mind at all.”


	2. Chapter 2

Edelgard leans back on the loveseat in the study adjoining their bedroom, absently swirling a glass of wine as she watches the door. He's being annoyingly punctual, how unreasonable of him.

Byleth's on the chaise lounge opposite in a silk negligee that just skirts the tops of her knees, foot tapping the ground in a way that reminds Edelgard of how she used to get on the eve of a battle. She shoots Edelgard an excited, nervous smile.

“I don't think I studied enough.” She kicks her heels together. “I read an erotic novel but I don't feel prepared. I'm going to gape at his dick like it's some eldritch creature and he's going to mock me.”

“I'm sure he won't mock you.”

Byleth shrugs. “...Part of me kind of wants him to. It's a good look on him.”

Edelgard stifles a laugh. She has to agree. “Perhaps we can bring it up later. He was very concerned about overstepping in this encounter, as you'll recall. I'm sure he'll be the picture of respect.”

“Right. You're directing.” Her voice gets coy. “ _Your Majesty~_ ” She stretches her leg out to run her toes along the side of Edelgard's calf, still clad in her imperial regalia because she hadn't bothered to change.

Edelgard raises an eyebrow. “You're teasing the woman who'll be directing your intercourse for the night? Brave.”

“Mmm... _yep_. I know you don't have it in you to actually hold out on me.” She tilts her head in thought as her toes creep to push Edelgard's skirt up over her knee. “...Hubert might.”

“Almost assuredly.”

Byleth's foot retreats.

The knock they've been waiting for finally sounds on the door. (New pattern every few months. Still can't be too careful.)

“Come in, Hubert,” she calls.

He unlocks the door and enters. He's dressed down, just breeches and a high-collared shirt, which he adjusts nervously as he closes the door behind him. “I confess I am unsure of the appropriate greeting for this situation, but...here I am.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Hubert. You're still sure about this?”

He lets out a short self-deprecating laugh. “You needn't worry on that front. This is all...a bit surreal, but in an entirely pleasant way, I assure you.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Come sit with us.”

Edelgard's quite deliberately taking up the middle of the loveseat, so the primary available seat is on the lounge next to Byleth. He hesitantly picks his way over to sit, back straight and hands folded in his lap, gaze flickering between them, a hint of a flush on his cheeks.

Byleth gives him a little wave, completely unconcerned with her scant state of dress. “You look nice.”

Edelgard hums agreement.

“Thank you, Profess—I suppose I should call you Byleth in this context, shouldn't I?”

“Please.”

She feels as though she should be trying to get everyone to relax before they begin, but dispelling tension has never been a strength of hers. Maybe they can just...move slowly until everyone gets more comfortable.

“Hubert, how would you like to start this?” (She realizes retroactively that she should have checked if he's done this before, despite long-held suspicions about why a certain dowager baroness well-known for her taste in younger men had gone overnight from recalcitrant to accommodating on the subject of garrisoning troops years prior.)

He gives Byleth a slow, contemplative look. “Kissing seems appropriate, if that's agreeable.”

Byleth gives a pleased nod, scooting closer so their legs are pressed together and turning to face him.

“Please, go ahead,” Edelgard says.

Hubert sets a careful hand on her shoulder and slots their lips together. It's soft, almost surprised for a moment. Then Hubert's other hand settles between Byleth's shoulders, and he leans forward until she's off balance and has to wrap her arms around his back to avoid falling backwards.

Byleth quickly melts into the kiss, a truly beautiful sight that Edelgard's never had the opportunity to observe from this angle before. The contrast between her softer features and Hubert's sharp ones, illuminated in the lamplight, is exquisite. Edelgard can see flashes of tongue passing between their lips, Byleth's hands clutching at the back of Hubert's shirt and rumpling it into disarray.

So far, at least, he moves like he knows what he's doing. “Hubert, your shirt's getting wrinkled, why don't you take it off?”

Their mouths part with a soft sound, and Hubert unbuttons his shirt. For all that he prefers to fight at a distance with magic, he's always been one to cover his bases, and the lance and bow training that he still keeps up with is apparent in the way his shoulders move as he shrugs out of it and lets it fall behind him. It's...compelling.

“Well? What do you think, Byleth?” she asks, knowing the answer already from the way she's staring.

“Pretty,” Byleth says, straining out her hands to touch. “Wait, you're not supposed to call men pretty. Hubert, you look good with no shirt.”

“Very nice,” Edelgard agrees, and he flushes a little. “Now, I think Byleth wants to kiss more.”

Even in the dim light of the room, she can see the peaks of Byleth's nipples through the silk shift she's wearing. She watches Hubert's gaze catch on it too, as Byleth runs her hands over the flat panes of his own chest in tactile fascination before going in for another kiss.

Edelgard watches his hand hover in the air at her side for a moment, indecisive, before settling chastely on her upper arm.

“You can touch her tits, Hubert. Go ahead. She likes that.”

His hand promptly slips from Byleth's bicep to her waist and traces a leisurely path up her side until his palm is cupping her generous chest, testing the weight of it in his hand and rubbing the silk in slow circles over her skin. He groans quietly into Byleth's mouth, and as the kiss continues his hand moves with increasing boldness—groping, squeezing, teasing her nipple with his thumb, tracing the exposed skin along the neckline of her negligee.

Byleth moans softly, squirms her hips a little, her thighs pressed tightly together.

“You're doing marvelously, Hubert.” She takes a sip of her wine, heat curling in her abdomen. “Byleth, why don't you let Hubert help you out of your nightdress now?”

Byleth nods slightly, swinging her legs across Hubert's lap so the skirt's no longer pinned under her. The hem rides up, revealing toned thighs that just make Edelgard want to spread them and shove her face between and—she's definitely going to have Hubert do exactly that.

With one last caress of her chest through the silk, Hubert breaks the kiss and slides his hands down to the hem. His gaze is fixed, intense, on the revealed skin as he lifts the negligee slowly up her body. His breath catches as he lifts it over her chest—Edelgard can sympathize, seeing Byleth's bare tits for the first time is perhaps the closest she's ever gotten to a spiritual experience.

The negligee gets tossed to the floor, and he doesn't need any prompting to start kissing her neck, one hand quickly finding her now-bare tits again. His other hand runs up and down her back, dipping low a couple times to trace the curve of her ass.

Byleth whimpers—he must've bitten her neck.

“You're doing wonderfully,” Edelgard murmurs.“Show me how wet you've gotten her.”

Byleth's legs part accommodatingly, making room for Hubert's hand to snake down her front and slip between her thighs.

After testing her wetness for a moment, he brings his mouth close to her ear. “We should show her properly, don't you think?”

Byleth twists to sit more fully on his lap, facing Edelgard. She lets him hook an arm under one of her thighs and lift it up, putting her pussy on display for Edelgard. Edelgard can see it glistening in the lamplight, long clear strands clinging to Hubert's fingers as he pulls his hand away for Edelgard's inspection.

Part of her wants to come over and suck those fingers into her mouth—but they didn't discuss that sort of thing. And besides, she's having a lot of fun directing.

“Hubert, try to make her come with your mouth.”

“Why don't you lie down, Professor?” Hubert says softly into Byleth's ear. She flushes at the form of address, but doesn't correct him.

Byleth twists back onto the lounge, lying with feet planted apart. “Like this?”

“More or less,” he replies, kicking off his boots. He kneels before her, grabs her legs, and hooks her knees over his shoulders, leaving her pelvis suspended in the air.

_Oh_. That's a much more...dramatic visual than the positions she'd been picturing.

He doesn't pause, just dives right in, making Byleth gasp abruptly. The position means she has to hold her tits in place to keep her generous chest from falling down towards her face, and soon she's rolling her nipples between her fingers with little gasps, her hips bucking slightly in the air.

Edelgard can't really see the specifics of what Hubert's doing, but he seems to be skilled at it. Another bloom of _want_ uncurls between her thighs, and she takes a sip of wine to distract herself. “I _love_ when she sounds like that. You're doing so well.”

Her words seem to fill him with even more vigor, and Byleth moans, loudly. Edelgard begins to arrange her split outer skirts so she can easily hike the knee-length underskirt up her thigh, acutely aware that this is probably going to end with her hand shoved in her panties.

In the shadowy area between their bodies, she can see one of his hands slip down and adjust his groin before clamping back down on Byleth's hips to hold her pelvis in place. (Edelgard can't make out the situation down there between the shadows, dark fabric, and the looser fit of his trousers, and that fact is suddenly profoundly frustrating to her—a silly annoyance when there are so many other things pulling at her attention, like the flush on Byleth's cheeks, or the visual of Hubert's head buried between her thighs.)

Byleth jolts, arching into nothing, her breath coming in sobbing pants.

“Whatever you're doing, keep doing it,” Edelgard says. She pulls the glove off her free hand with her teeth and lets it fall on the sofa.

She's never had the pleasure of watching Byleth come apart from this angle, the full-body shudders that she needs someone else to yank out of her. “Perfect,” she murmurs.

Hubert raises his head slightly as Byleth's keening and shuddering trails off, clearly ready to dive back in at a moment's notice if the next order of business is more of the same.

“Byleth, what would you like?” Edelgard asks.

Byleth drops her legs from Hubert's shoulders and pulls herself to a semi-reclining position. “Pretty sure this plan involved Hubert's dick in me at some point.”

“She makes a compelling point, Hubert. Your pants are still on.”

“By all means, allow me to remedy that.” He wipes his face on his sleeve and stands, the flush on his cheeks belying his smooth tone, then briskly strips off his pants and socks in a way that doesn't really leave them time to appreciate the process.

She can make out the solid form of his cock through his underwear, pushed off to one side, but he's still wearing entirely too much. “Underwear, too.” She takes a sip of wine to wet her suddenly dry throat.

He tugs them down, his cock bobbing free. It's flushed and solid, jutting out of a thatch of black curls, and she has to bite back the urge to ask him to step closer so she can do a detailed review. That would probably be somewhat disconcerting.

Byleth seems to have no such compunctions, staring with an air of awed fascination at the way it bobs as he steps out of his underwear, the bead of wetness on the head, the vein winding down the side. “Can I touch it?”

“If I had objections to you touching it, that would put something of a damper on our plans for the evening, would it not?” After a quick glance to confirm Edelgard isn't going to object, he steps closer, his hips considerately angled to leave her a clear view. “Be my guest.”

Byleth reaches out and runs a delicate finger along the length, her eyes getting even wider when it jumps at the first touch of her hand. Edelgard holds back a giggle, recalling her earlier statement about eldritch creatures.

“Have you...not seen one before?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice, flush creeping onto his cheeks.

Byleth shrugs, fingers wandering down to explore the scrotum (balls? She's never had to choose her preferred sensual terminology for this particular anatomical feature) hanging below. “Not while it's up. We have one with straps, but it's shaped differently.”

His eyes meet Edelgard's with a clear question. She shakes her head, lips quirked, and gives his crotch an exaggerated ogling, waggling her brows. His blush deepens.

Byleth finishes her inspection and gives Edelgard a sheepish “told you” look.

“All right then—back on the lounge, both of you. Byleth, lie down.” She wants her face-up for this. “Hubert?” She pauses on a slow, deliberate sip of wine.

“Yes?”

“I want you to absolutely wreck her.”

Byleth inhales sharply. “ _Fuck,_ ” she moans.

As if her words unleashed something, Hubert doesn't even take a half-second's pause to _consider_ how he might go about wrecking the woman before him. He straddles one of her thighs and lifts the other in the air, crowding up between them. “That was the idea, I believe.”

The position tilts Byleth's pelvis towards Edelgard, so she can see a flash of Byleth's shiny-wet cunt, Hubert's cock lurking at the juncture of her legs. She needs to touch herself, _now_.

Edelgard frantically hikes her skirt up her knee, her eyes fixed on Hubert's cock sinking into Byleth. Her hand makes it into her panties just as their hips connect.

She dips down to catch some of her own slick and starts to rub her clit with her fingers, watching as Hubert thrusts into Byleth in a measured, powerful grind, pushing deep with every stroke.

Byleth's biting her lip, rocking into it. Her eyes keep fluttering shut then opening to rake over Hubert and the space between her legs. Edelgard just wants to watch her get completely taken apart.

“You're fucking her so well, Hubert,” she praises. “Byleth, I want you to touch your clit.” She reaches over to set her wine on a side table so she doesn't spill it onto the cushions, as her own touch is starting to make her body jerk minutely.

Byleth complies, her hand moving down to work her clit in circles. She turns her head to face Edelgard and moans loudly at what she sees. “ _Fuck, El_.”

Hubert follows her gaze, to where Edelgard's sitting with her skirt hiked up to her waist and her hand moving between her legs. A deep groan resounds in his chest, and she sees his fingers digging into Byleth's thigh, skin going white under his grip. His hips lurch forward, breaking the rhythm he'd set to bury his cock to the base in Byleth's cunt.

“Fuck her harder,” Edelgard says breathlessly, plunging her fingers into her pussy for a moment before moving back up to circle her clit.

“ _Gladly_ ,” he rasps, eyes still fixed on her. His hips drive into Byleth harder, faster. Edelgard doesn't know where to look—his ass flexing with each thrust, the way each slam of their bodies sends Byleth's tits bouncing, their _faces_. The lamplight catches on Hubert's cock each time it shoves back in, because it's covered in her wife's slick from _being inside her_ , oh _fuck_.

They keep looking over, meeting her eyes then back to each other. Imagine how incendiary it would be if she were sitting on Byleth's face meeting Hubert's gaze like this—wait no they could _kiss_ then, or she could press her chest against his back and take over rubbing Byleth's clit—or she could show him exactly what that strap-on looks like, shift Byleth into his lap and fuck her ass... Or wait she could fuck _him_ into Byleth and have both of them at her mercy at once. She could shove her face into Byleth's fucked-out pussy and clean it out with her tongue—

Byleth's moaning and swearing, her hand moving frantically on her clit. She's close.

“You look so gorgeous right now, my love,” Edelgard gasps, fingers grinding between her legs. “I can't wait to see you pregnant.”

Byleth's back arches, and her whole body shudders. Her mouth opens as if in a scream, but all that comes out is a thin, hoarse keen.

Hubert moans raggedly—Edelgard can only imagine how Byleth's cunt must be spasming around his cock.

“ _Wonderful_ , Hubert. I want you to come inside her now. As deep as you can.” Despite all her practice keeping her voice even and commanding, she thinks some desperation broke through. She feels like she's racing him to the finish, trying to chase down her orgasm while she can still watch his hips flexing between Byleth's legs.

He presses in close, humping in short thrusts that rock Byleth forward as he tries to get as deep inside her as possible. He groans, eyes falling shut—oh fuck, he's _coming in Byleth's cunt_.

A high, sharp cry escapes her as she shakes apart on her fingers. They look over, watch her come, and while she's familiar with the fond hunger in Byleth's eyes she's never seen Hubert look at her like he's drinking her in, like he wants to strip her naked and take her apart piece by piece. His hips are still jerking against Byleth's pelvis, they're going to have a _baby_ , _**oh**_.

It takes her a moment to come down. “Thank you,” she pants, and it's not what she meant to say at all. “Fuck. Wow.”

“Same,” Byleth says.

Hubert just looks between them dazedly. Cheeks pink, he clears his throat and slowly pulls out, getting off Byleth's leg.

Byleth leans up on her elbows, looking down at the join of her legs. “Whoah. That feels wet.” She pivots to face Edelgard and pulls her legs up to her chest. A fat drop of white leaks out of her exposed pussy. “So? How'd we do, your Majesty?”

Edelgard forcibly wrenches her gaze away from Byleth's pussy to meet their eyes and smile. “That was amazing. Both of you.”

The flush on Hubert's cheeks darkens. His eyes keep darting over to the same place hers were, even as he awkwardly moves towards his discarded clothing.

“Hubert, at least let us offer you a chance to wash up before you run off.”

He blinks. “Right. I—yes, I'd appreciate that. Thank you, Lady Edelgard.”

“I suppose we forgot to discuss this part of the evening, didn't we?” she asks.

He nods stiffly. She can almost hear the barriers he puts between her and his emotional trivialities going back up. It's even more infuriating than usual when he's naked.

“You should stay and chat with us,” Byleth says, uncurling herself and standing. She heads towards the bath and beckons them to follow her. “Unless you have somewhere to be.”

“I...would enjoy that,” Hubert says. He's blushing again. Edelgard's not sure whether he's staring at Byleth's ass, or the glob of his seed running down her leg. She's not sure which one _she_ wants to stare at.

Once they've cleaned up, they spend a pleasant hour on gossip, good news, and the merits of baby names. It feels entirely natural to be sitting together in their private chambers like this, even with Byleth in a negligee and Hubert's shirt unbuttoned. If anything, Edelgard feels overdressed.

Still, there's a warm, unspoken tension in the air. Gazes that linger a moment too long, a touch too heatedly. Sparks passing silently between them after moments of laughter.

“When would you like to do this again?” she asks, as their conversation is winding down.

He starts, as though he's not sure he heard her correctly. “I admit, I wasn't expecting a repeat of this. Unless we find out that this attempt didn't take.”

“I believe the recommendation is to try every few days,” Edelgard says. “If you're that confident in your virility, though, we can just wait and see,” she adds teasingly.

He clears his throat. “It does seem... _prudent_ to be cautious. If the two of you don't mind.”

“It was fun, I'm happy to do it again,” Byleth says.

“Likewise. Are you free two days from now?”

He laughs softly. “For you? Always.”

They make plans to meet again, and he departs with a bow, so perfectly put together that she's sure anyone who seems him leaving their rooms will assume the three of them were discussing governance.

Before that next meeting, though, there's a conversation she needs to have with Byleth.

She thinks they might have some other big changes to discuss.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of like the idea that this takes place in the same continuity as [An Embarrassment of Riches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118297/chapters/58063546) and there's an offscreen Manuela involved with the briefly mentioned Ferdithea. Power trios having babies all around.


End file.
